


Types of Kisses

by LadySheik



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kisses, Kissing, More tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:48:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23404018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySheik/pseuds/LadySheik
Summary: I just want to write a bunch of kissing fluff since we all have to be six feet apart. Tags to be updated as more parts are added.
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character, Han Jumin/Main Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	1. Christmas Kisses

“Out this instant!” MC playfully smacks Jumin’s backside as he attempts to steal yet another taste of batter. Over the last several hours, he’s successfully stolen no less than three fingers of frosting, a handful of sugar sprinkles, and a swig of rum straight from the bottle.

It’s a game he loves. A constant offense against MC’s defense, a touch-and-go game where they trade not-so-subtle wins, stealing smiles from each other even though they’re the only ones in the condo.

Jumin retreats from the kitchen island back to the Christmas tree with its bright lights, a goofy smile plastered across his face. He feels a little stupid wearing it, but he can’t help himself – MC just brings it out of him like the sun bringing out the spring petals from the flowers.

He disappears to the bathroom for a moment and takes a sip of wine when he returns. He’s smiling at MC when the taste registers. Jumin spits the wine back into his glass as he gags, a viscous, bitter taste flooding his mouth that has nothing in common with wine. There’s an aftertaste chasing around his mouth that he’s sure he could identify if he could stop gagging.

Jumin runs back into the kitchen, ducking his head under the faucet and drinking like his life depends on it. MC is laughing behind him, and the sound of it echoes around the kitchen. She’s still laughing when he pulls back from the faucet. Tears have gathered at the corners of her eyes, and she’s breathless with the joy of it.

He turns around the leans against the edge of the sink, arms folded. Despite his best efforts, Jumin can’t keep a stern look on his face as he looks at his wife. “And what sort of tampering did you do to my wine?”

Unable to speak, MC points to a small glass bottle on the end of the counter. _Pure Vanilla Extract_ is printed on the label in a clear font. Jumin picks it up, giving it an experimental shake. It can’t be more than a quarter full.

“I win this round,” she finally manages to gasp. She wipes at her eyes with the heels of her hands, giving him a wide smile.

Jumin returns the smile as he squares his shoulders and marches toward her. She raises her hands, dancing back with playful steps. Jumin keeps advancing until he has her backed under the mistletoe.

He leans down, cupping her jaw with one hand and letting the other hand rest on the door. “So it seems. Perhaps a prize is due?”

MC wraps her arms around his neck. Her fingers dig into the collar of his shirt and pulls him down into a kiss. It’s strong, but more smile than actual kiss. When MC pulls back, her nose is wrinkled.

“Ugh, I can still taste the extract.”

Jumin raises an eyebrow. “You knew what it tasted like already?”

She pulls herself up straight and raises her chin. “Any baker worth their salt has tasted pure vanilla extract straight at least once. It smells amazing.”

MC ducks under Jumin’s arm and grabs a piece of chalk, making a tally mark on the board under her name. She turns back to him with a grin. “You’re falling behind,” she sings.

Jumin backs up after stealing one last smile-kiss from his wife. “Another round?”

She steps back up to the island and dips her finger in the flour. Two quick strokes give her makeshift war paint. Her grin is fierce. “You’re on.”


	2. Comfort Kisses

Seven hasn’t seen MC for a while. How long a while is, he can’t be sure; he can go for hours without ever looking away from his screens when he’s working or playing LOLOL against Yoosung. A glance at the clock tells him that she should be home by now, though, so he shuts everything down (making sure to save repeatedly before doing so, just to be safe), and heads off in search of his wife.

He opens the office door to the sound of uneven breathing, and every bone in his body immediately kicks into overdrive. Habit forces him to slow his steps, every muscle tense and ears alert to any noise that shouldn’t be there.

Seven rounds the corner of the bedroom. A quick glance promises him that, yes, MC is alone, and more importantly, safe.

She does not, however, look okay. Curled up on the duvet, she clutches a pillow to her stomach, face buried in the fabric.

“MC?”

When she looks up, her face is stricken, and he’s at her side in an instant. She drops the pillow in favor of holding out her arms, and Seven sweeps her into his lap without a second thought. He presses soft kisses to her temple as she turns her face into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’m here, you’re alright.” The words are soft as he peppers her tear-streaked face with his lips.

Her crying doesn’t stop, and he takes one of her hands in his, pressing the knuckled to his mouth. “Nod if you’re hurting anywhere.”

There’s a shake, and he relaxes a bit.

“Are you going to be okay?”

A nod this time. MC pulls back, wiping her nose on her sleeve as she gives him the weakest smile he’s ever seen from her. “Yeah, I just—I had a shitty day at work and someone yelled at me and then two people honked at me on the drive home and I just—it was too much.”

Seven leans forward and kisses her forehead soundly, pulling back with an overzealous smack. “You scared me,” he says seriously, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Her smile becomes a little stronger at that, and she sniffs again. “No need to worry. Just a bad day.”

“Anything I can do to make it better.”

She laughs, a warble of a sound in the back of her throat. “You already have, sweetheart.” The hand that Seven isn’t holding hostage comes up to cup his cheek. “But I wouldn’t mind taking a nap with a big spoon, if you’re offering.”

He kisses her nose and then her mouth. “I’m always offering.”


End file.
